


A Small Error

by nicedracula



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Emetophobia, M/M, inaccurate depiction of radiation poisoning that probably falls in line with the fallout universe, not really romantic but it's intended to be heading in that direction, with all the grace expected from a relationship with gage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28559142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicedracula/pseuds/nicedracula
Summary: Laurel makes a mistake. Fortunately—or unfortunately—Gage is there to help.
Relationships: Porter Gage/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	A Small Error

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to tidy up more writing and post it, regardless of how good or bad I think it is. I might come back and give it another round of editing, but who knows?

Speckles of bright pastel paint were scattered across Laurel's boots, much to his dismay. It did occur to him that now, with his newly established position as Overboss, he could order anyone to fetch him a pair of whatever boots he desired, or to clean this pair if he was really so attached to them. 

Gage looked to be in just about the same condition, the front of his thinly worn tank top smattered with a gruesome mix of blood and gaudy paint, and looked to be equally dismayed by the result. But the work was done and they did not have to worry about this corner of the park any longer.

Laurel felt the familiar dizzying high after a fight, his racing heart gradually slowing to regularity. He imagined that the combination of cramped spaces and the ceaseless amount of ghouls may have contributed to emphasizing this thrill. 

"Well," Gage said. "Where to next?"

"Back to base," Laurel said, resting his swatter on his shoulder and leading the way out of the park.

The ground between the themed areas of the Nuka-World park was parched, cracking and crumbling easy underneath the heavy footsteps of the two men. A wide expanse of flaking sepia underneath the cloudless expanse of a cornflower sky, its only notable markers the high-walled parks and the sheer cliffs that bowled Nuka-World.

Perhaps it was the best land for raiders to stake their claim in. The earth was infertile, impossible to use for farming. The park itself was a cartoonish fortress, its candy colors long since faded, and decorated with many a garrish statues in the form of Cappy, Bottle, Nuka-Girl, and whatever other idols the Old World creators had dreamt up at the time. The air was uncomfortably warm, giving rise to the many unfortunate odors that it housed. But no matter how many raiders holed up in its corners, there was no way to overpower the sticky, sickeningly sweet scent of centuries old Nuka-Cola that still lurked within many of the crevices within the theme park.

And now Laurel was crowned king of this pungent horde.

He had to admit, he was flattered by the title 'Overboss', and even more satisfied by the look on everyone's faces when he took down their previous leader. 

The walks between parks were perhaps the worst. There was next to no cover, which left Gage and Laurel to keep their heads on swivel the whole time. They were not long treks; maybe five to ten minutes between the closest parks, and a whole hour to walk from one end to the other, but the tension extended those times exorbitantly.

Not even a few minutes out of the park, Laurel found himself already beginning to sweat under the sun. He cupped a hand over his eyes and peered up at it maliciously, scowling. 

"You alright, boss?" Gage asked. "You ain't looking too good."

"'m fine. Just a bit...thrown off, is all."

Gage nodded and seemed to accept this response. They walked a little further and Laurel found himself growing indescribably exhausted, the sweat now coupled with shivers. His upper lip felt wet and cold, but his forehead was burning. He did not want to show this, and did his best to keep his head held high, his shoulders square, his swatter held casually over his right shoulder. The occasional concerned glance from Gage told him he looked otherwise.

It only took fourteen steps before Laurel had to involuntarily keel over, bile rising in his throat. He caged his fingers in front of his mouth in some futile effort to stop the process, but only ended up catching vomit on his fingers as it splattered onto the ground. Disgusted and not entirely in his head, he wiped his palms on his pants.

"Shit, boss, you alright?" 

" _Fiiine_ , I told you. I'm fi—" He could not even finish the second sentence before he gagged, and keeled over again. He heard Gage take a few steps back and mutter a small 'shi-yut' to himself.

He held his hands on his knees, coughing and sputtering, despising how weak he must have looked at that moment.

"You take Rad-X before we left like I told ya to?"

"Of course I bloody…" And then Laurel backtracked his steps in his mind, and realized his error. He knelt down to his knees on the ground, face in his hands, grinding his teeth angrily. "God _fucking_ dammit."

"You forgot." It wasn't a question, just a very disappointed assessment. Laurel did not answer, and Gage sighed, knelt down in front of him, and held up a few fingers in front of his face. "How many fingers am I holdin' up?"

"I'm not _blind_ , you idiot, I'm—"

And then Laurel realized that he could not answer his question. It was not necessarily that his vision was so blurred or disabled that he could not decipher the fingers held inches from his face, but because the numbers simply did not come to him. The basic function of counting felt as if it had been knocked out of his skull, and he probed his mind deeper for the solution that would have been so easily obtainable only an hour ago. 

Gage sighed, burying his face in his hand. "Rad poisoning, it looks like."

"I thought we came to that conclusion when you asked if I'd taken Rad-X."

"You want me to help you out or not?"

Laurel sighed resignedly and glared up at him.

"Good. Now, think you can stand?"

Laurel wobbled to his feet, chin turned up proudly. He took a step forward and felt his knees give out. The last thing he remembered was how the world seemed to spin and slow down as the floor rose up to meet him.

Things got strange and fuzzy, recalling Gage's voice, different vignettes of Nuka World passing before his eyes, and the cracked, dry earth moving below him, away from him, as if he were floating.

Laurel woke up to find that the sun was no longer beating down on his head. As he blinked open his eyes, he assessed that he was in a trailer—one of the ones he had seen on the side of the road between parks. It was still the afternoon from what he could tell from the warm light falling through the broken windows. Over on the other side of the trailer, he spotted the hulking figure of Gage, bent over and concentrated on cleaning his rifle.

He did not trust the man as far as he could throw him; and, considering Laurel's less-than-average muscle mass, and the good sixty-or-so pounds Gage had on him, he doubted he could throw him very far. The man was an idiot, but also a cruel, selfish, malicious idiot. In short, a dangerous idiot.

With slow and careful movements, Laurel felt each pocket on his person, searching for familiar shapes with his fingers.

"I didn't steal nothin', if that's what you're wriggling around there for," Gage said without looking up from his gun.

Laurel paused, then continued to check his belongings, but with less subtlety.

"You're a cagey little creature, you know that?"

"Forgive me for not trusting the man who imprisoned me here.".

"Hey, you being alive and well benefits me, so you should at least trust that. And besides," he set his rifle aside, leaning it against the wall of the trailer. "You've been benefiting from this too."

"Because it's such a privilege ruling over this junk pile."

"It is," Gage said flatly. He leaned his elbows onto his knees and sat there for a moment. "How're you hanging on over there?"

"I've felt better," Laurel grunted as he sat up more properly. 

"We're not far from home base, just taking a quick rest. You know, for being so little, you're pretty heavy." 

Laurel glared at him, and Gage chuckled. 

"For this to work, you gotta start trusting me a little more. You can at least see that I won't leave you for dead out here."

"How comforting."

"Are we gonna have a conversation or are you just gonna keep spitting insults at me like some sort of child?"

"As far as I'm concerned, there's no conversation to be had."

They rested there a moment longer in awkward silence. Gage picked at his hands absentmindedly while Laurel slumped in the corner, his head throbbing and mouth uncomfortably dry, looking up out the nearest window with a blank expression. After a bit longer Gage slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up with a grunt and walked over to Laurel.

"Can you stand?"

Laurel rose slowly, one hand on the wall to steady himself, giving Gage an indignant glare the entire time. He stood there, knees trembling, still relying on the trailer wall for support, but managed to stay upright in spite of his growing nausea. 

"Now, can you walk?" Gage said incredulously.

Laurel took a few careful steps towards the trailer doorway, brows furrowed in concentration and irritation. He made it, and a smirk returned to his lips. He stepped out into the sunlight, his footsteps more certain now, in spite of the weakness still present in his body.

"Very impressive, boss."

"Oh, shut the hell up. Let's get out of here."

From where Laurel stood, he could see Nuka Town was only a short walk away. Gage, in his effort to find shady shelter, had taken a bit of a detour, but not enough to deter their journey. With a gesture of his hand, Laurel summoned Gage to continue the walk. He could already feel sweat beading on his upper lip again. 

An arm looped around his shoulders and caused him to jump out of the embrace. Laurel was ready to swing his swatter when he realized the arm belonged to Gage.

"Easy, boss, you were about to tip over. Turns out you need help after all."

Laurel did not admit it out loud, but walking did become a bit easier, even with the discomfort of having someone warm and sweaty drawn so close. The cage armor that Gage wore added a bit of awkwardness, too, but also created some small barrier of distance between them, which Laurel was grateful for.

When they arrived back at Nuka-World, Gage advised Laurel to walk the whole way back to Fizztop Grille on his own, so as not to show any sign of weakness to his new following. And he did, chin tilted high, swatter resting confidently on his shoulder, and he hoped that no one was looking close enough to observe the cold sweat in his lips or how pale he was.

The minute he entered the double doors of his home, the act dropped, and Laurel tossed his swatter to the side with a heavy sigh and trudged over to his bed, flopping down on it heavily. Involuntarily, he closed his eyes, and sleep came over him quickly.

It wasn't long before Laurel was awoken by the creak of his door, and several people poured into his room, metal boxes in hand. As they huddled around him and quickly set to administering the RadAway, Laurel could see Gage from the corner of his eye, propped against the wall, After the treatment had been admitted, Gage gestured for the medics to leave, and as quickly as they appeared they were gone. 

"How're you feeling, boss?" 

Laurel turned to him, sitting up a bit, but said nothing.

"You really look like shit".

"I've seen better days," Laurel said as he hoisted himself out of bed. He could not tell if he was imagining it, but he was already starting to feel better, his mind more lucid.

"You're welcome, by the way," Gage said as Laurel walked past him. Laurel only growled. Gage chuckled.

Laurel leaned against the balcony railing overlooking Nuka-World. He could see all his followers below him, milling about, behaving senselessly, getting into mindless scuffles or guffawing loudly. These were his people now. He spit over the railing.

He felt Gage settle beside him, his elbows propped against the railing. The man let out a deep, wistful sigh. Clearly they were looking at the same view with different eyes.

"I know we've talked about how I think you might backstab me, but I'm surprised you're not more worried about me turning on you," Laurel said.

He paused, expecting a response, but Gage stayed silent. 

"I wasn't a raider before this, y'know. A petty thief, frequent caravan guard, and occasional enforcer. But this? This is out of my area of expertise. You put me in this corner. What choice did I have, besides followin' your lead. If I snap, what's to stop me from going on a rampage? Sure, I may certainly die going up against dozens of raiders, but in the end I imagine it would damage your image more. Go out in a blaze of glory, all to add another failed project to Gage's list. Rile up the tensions more here. Maybe even take down Nuka-World somewhere down the line. Domino effect."

Shouts from a group of raiders below punctuated the silence after his rambling. Laurel did not look at Gage, but he felt him shift slightly beside him, the chains on his armor clinking with the movement.

"...I'm joking, of course. Just curious why you might not have considered that before."

"...Jeezus, boss."


End file.
